


I'll be coming Home for Christmas

by HolmesAndNotQuiteWatson



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 'Pala is buried in Snow, A Very Supernatural Christmas, Advent Calendar, Bobby Singer is the Winchester dad, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cuddles, Cute, December - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Fluff, Eggnog, Festive Fics, Fluff, Fluffy, Hot Chocolate, Human AU, Kisses, Little bit of Jo/Anna, Little bit of angst, M/M, Mistletoe, No Supernatural Creatures, Sabriel - Freeform, Snow, Snow Angels, Snowmen, Stuck in a blizzard, The Miltons are human Angels, advent fic, christmas trees, it's so fluffy i'm going to die, there's a lot of fluff, tree decorating, well adopted dad, xmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 19:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 17,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2703044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolmesAndNotQuiteWatson/pseuds/HolmesAndNotQuiteWatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a ferocious blizzard, Sam and Dean are forced to abandon the Impala under the snow and seek refuge. A small house yields the Miltons- Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, Castiel, Anna, Inias, and Samandiriel- who are all to happy to host the Winchesters this holiday season. Grab some hot chocolate, turn up the Christmas vibe, and dig in.</p><p>(Written by Holmes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let it Snow

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 2014 Advent fic. I'll be posting anywhere between 300 and 1000 words a day until Christmas. Enjoy!
> 
> This fic was written by Holmes and beta'd by the ever grammatically correct and generally brilliant NotQuiteWatson.

"Damn it!" Dean shouted. He whacked the wheel of his beloved car, as if it would somehow get her out of the rapidly rising snow ditch she was stuck in. He sighed, recognizing that there was no friggin way they were going to be able to drive on to Bobby's until the snow stopped, and squinted out of the window, trying to see past the sheets of snowflakes currently bombarding his baby.

There was a shape off to one side- where the road they were meant to be following led- and it looked awfully like a house. He made a decision and reached into the backseat, where his baby brother was sprawled out, fast asleep. Dean poked him. "Hey Sammy," he said gruffly, tugging lightly at his brother's jaw-length hair to wake him, "time to go."

"We there yet?" Sam mumbled, batting sleepily at Dean's hand. 

Dean grimaced. "Not exactly."

"Then I'm going back to sleep." Sam said, and closed his eyes. 

"Man, Sammy, we're stuck." Dean shouted, banging his head against the window. It was cold, and he jerked his forehead away. 

"What?" His brother had pulled one of his patented bitchfaces- number 12, or the _Dean I can’t believe you’d do something that stupid_ one, and he turned and pressed his nose up to the glass. "What're we gonna do?"

"See that thing?" Dean pointed to the building he’d seen. Sam nodded and reached for his jumper. "We're going to go up there and ask for help."

It took both of them to open the passenger door, and Sam ended up climbing into the front seat so they could both get out. "You be careful of my Baby," Dean had warned, "or you'll be paying for the repairs.” They didn't even bother suggesting trying to open the trunk once they’d seen the sheer amount of snow that was piled on top of it.

And, of course, since Dean didn't drive in winter wear, and Sam didn't sleep in it, they were left to trudge through the snow without winter jackets or hats, scarves, and gloves. 

For every step, they had to yank their foot out of the two odd feet of snow, try not to fall over, and then plunge it into the next bit, only to start the process all over again for the second foot. Dean's socks were soaked, Sammy was shivering, and the house didn't seem to be getting closer. 

Eventually though, they got near enough to see that it was a three storied imbalance of a building that looked like it had started out as a bungalow and had just had bits added on over the years. There might have been a front yard or a fence, but they couldn't see it for snow and, with the icicles Dean could swear he felt forming from his hair, he wasn't about to check. 

The front door was a huge dark wooded thing, with a giant knocker like the head of a lion. “You have got to be kidding me.” Dean groaned, and closed his fingers around the frigidly cold metal. The knock was loud enough to wake the dead, and both the brothers winced at the sound. 

Sam was shifting from foot to foot, arms folded, and head hunched. His lips were turning blue. Dean swore and pulled him into the limited shelter provided by the doorframe.

After a minute or so, the door swung open to reveal a short, honey-haired man with a smirk on his face. “Whatever you’re selling, we’ll buy it and burn it.” he said, then laughed when he noticed their clothing. “Are you guys lost? Florida’s that way.”


	2. The Weather outside is frightful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Two
> 
> This fic was written by Holmes and beta'd by the ever grammatically correct and generally brilliant NotQuiteWatson.

A taller man appeared behind him, carrying a small child of about six years. “Gabriel,” he said sternly, then smiled warmly at Sam and Dean, “that’s no way to treat people who show up on your doorstep in the middle of a storm.” Gabriel raised his eyebrows, like he thought precisely the opposite, but stepped aside. “Come in,” the taller man said, “I’m Michael Milton, and this.” he set down the small boy, “Is Samandiriel.”

Dean pushed Sam inside, smiling at the little boy and nodding to his father. The house was toasty and warm, and Dean could smell cinnamon and baking. He inhaled deeply and smiled. “You’re son’s very sweet,” he said, as an attempt at an ice-breaker. Michael started laughing. 

“Oh no,” he chuckled, “this is my younger brother.”

Sam held out his hand, still shivering. “Sam Winchester.” he got out, smiling. “This is my brother Dean.”

“Our car is stuck in the snow,” Dean said by way of explanation, and pointed vaguely in the direction where he thought the Impala was buried.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Michael took Sam’s hand and flinched at the ice-cold skin. “What am I thinking?” He muttered. “Come on, lets get you two inside- you must be frozen.” He pointed them down the hall towards where the baking smells were coming from. Grabbing the little boy’s hand, he chivvied the three of them into a huge kitchen which seemed to be full of people.

Dean walked right into the centre of the room without even really noticing, and smiled. It smells freaking fantastic in here, he thought, then remembered where he was, and sheepishly stepped to the side. Michael clapped his hands and instantly everyone turned his way.

“Miltons, meet the Winchesters.” he announced. “This is Sam and Dean, and they’re stuck with us for Christmas.”


	3. Seven Angels Greeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Three
> 
> This fic was written by Holmes and beta'd by the ever grammatically correct and generally brilliant NotQuiteWatson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my 2014 Advent fic. I'll be posting anywhere between 300 and 1000 words a day until Christmas. Enjoy

“Oh there’s no need-” Dean started, feeling horribly embarrassed. But his protests were drowned out by Michael calling for everyone to line up and introduce themselves. There were several protests about leaving the cooking, and Michael sighed. 

“Fine.” He steered Sam over to where Dean stood, out of the way. A guy who looked about Sam’s age, with chaotically ruffled hair and the bluest eyes Dean had ever seen, came over and handed them both mugs of hot chocolate. After he left, Michael took a deep breath. “So I am Michael,” he began, “and I’m the oldest.” 

“And the most annoying!” shouted a blond guy from the side of the room. There was a ripple of laughter from the others. He appeared to be hanging up Christmas cards so that they spelled out ‘Assbutt’ on the wall, and was wearing a shirt that said ‘Schrödinger’s cat is alive and pissed’.

“That,” Michael said dryly, “is the second oldest- Lucifer.”

Dean choked on his drink. “Seriously?” he asked, voice strangled.

“Dean!” Sam reproached, shooting an apologetic look at- geez the poor kid- Lucifer.

“We call him Luke.” Samandiriel piped up from where he sat at the bottom of Lucifer’s step ladder- he was periodically handing up cards to the blond boy. “It’s nicer.”

“Although he is a bit of a devil.” Michael muttered under his breath, then cleared his throat. “Gabriel is third oldest, and not here right now, which means he’s probably planning another prank.”

“He better not.” groused the only girl, a red-headed girl with a tray of rolls in her arms. “Only this morning he coated most of my room in fake snow and replaced my toothpaste with the stuff too!”

“Sammy here used to try and prank me.” Dean said. 

“Please don’t let him and Gabriel get together.” Michael begged.

“I’ll do my best.” Dean grinned, and slapped Sam on the back. He downed the last of his hot chocolate and looked for a place to set down his mug. The kitchen was full, and every available space on the wooden table and sideboards was taken by multitudes of baked and cooked goods. The guy who had brought over the drinks popped up seemingly out of nowhere. 

“I can take that.” he said, and his voice was ridiculously low and gravelly. 

“This is Castiel.” 

“Castiel?”

Castiel nodded and took Sam’s mug. Dean looked him up and down, noting the bed-head crop of dark brown hair, the crease between his eyebrows, and the smear of- was that cinnamon?- on his chin. 

"You got something on your chin," Dean pointed out uncomfortably. Castiel looked up and Jesus those were unlawfully blue eyes. 

"Oh." He said, and wiped it off. He held out his hand. Dean looked at it stupidly, mind still focused on the cinnamon smear. "Your mug." Castiel repeated, and Dean handed it over, convinced his cheeks must be bright red. 

“Who named you guys?” Dean asked quickly. 

“Our father,” Michael explained, “is very much of the absent, religious type, and he named us all after angels.” When Sam and Dean didn’t respond, he continued. “That’s Anna over there.” he gestured to the girl with the red hair, “She’s the only girl. Anael is her real name, but, as with Luke, we figured it was kinder to give her a nickname.”

Sam nodded politely to Anna and held out his hand. She sighed. “Michael, finish the introductions after they’ve stopped dying from frostbite.” Dean laughed. “Bathroom’s through that door,” she said, and looked them up and down with a critical eye. “Dean, you can wear one of Castiel’s shirts and some of Michael’s pants and Sam-”

“Moose there can borrow one of Luke’s shirts.” Gabriel had returned, toting two huge woollen blankets. “As for pants-” he looked Sam up and down, “I certainly don’t mind if he doesn’t wear any.”

Dean struggled to disguise a snort by coughing, but then found he couldn’t seem to stop. Sam was bright red and stutteringly embarrassed. “Uh- I- I’m not-”

“Oh shut it Samsquatch,” Gabriel laughed, passing over one of the blankets, “and go and get changed- can’t promise I won’t peek though.”

Dean stepped forward and put his hand out for Gabriel to shake. “Dean Winchester.” he said, and flashed his friendliest grin. “Big brother.”

“Gabriel,” he returned, smirk back on his face, “Trickster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow Holmes on tumblr at the-bitch-to-your-jerk.tumblr.com  
> Follow NotQuiteWatson on tumblr at snailscanbeeviltoo.tumblr.com


	4. Christmas is go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Four
> 
> This fic was written by Holmes and beta'd by the ever grammatically correct and generally brilliant NotQuiteWatson.

Once both brothers were re-clothed and wrapped in huge woollen blankets, Michael recommenced the introductions. 

“Inias!” he called, and instantly a boy, no more than ten years old and wearing several pairs of reindeer antlers on his head, scampered over. “Inias is the second youngest.” Inias grinned and held out his hand, unabashedly peering out from under a mop of black hair. 

“That’s my fav’rite of Luke’s shirts.” Sam looked down at the shirt Luke had lent him: it read  
‘I refuse to engage in a battle of wits with you- you’re unarmed’. 

Sam barked out a laugh. “I like it too.”

Michael patted Inias on the shoulder. “Go help Gabriel peel the carrots.” he whispered, and Inias was off. Michael straightened and scanned hall. “You’ve already met Samandiriel; he’s the youngest.”

“So there’s seven of you guys?” Dean questioned, counting once in his head to make sure he hadn’t missed anyone. “How do you cope?”

“We don’t.” Michael said grimly, then froze as something caught his eye. “Gabriel!” he yelled, storming into the midst of the kitchen and yanking various kitchen tools from his brother, “Don’t you dare fill these carrot with chilli.”

Anna wandered over. “Do you boys need to phone home?”

“Yeah.” Dean felt a wash of shame- he had completely forgotten that he would need to call Bobby, Ellen, and Jo. “What should I tell them about you?” he asked, only half joking. “Other than that you’re not serial killers?”

“You’re staying with the devil.” Luke called, and threw the phone. Sam flinched, and Dean threw up his hands with an involuntary shout, but then Anna’s hand was there, and she caught the phone. 

“Thanks.” Dean took the phone. “I’ll tell them you’re fine, Sammy.”  
-

It seemed to take ages for Bobby to pick up, and when he did, it was obvious he was pissed. “Where are you boys?” he growled.

“At the Miltons’-” 

“Who?” Dean sighed. 

“The Miltons.” He repeated, then closed the door to the bathroom he was hiding out in. “They’re a really nice family, and Baby got stuck under a drift-”

“Toldja you idjits shoulda let me come and get you in the truck.” Bobby sounded less angry now. A static sound filled the line for a second, but then Bobby was back.

“You boys’ll be fine then? Don’t want me to come and pick ya up?” Dean leant back against the door and considered it. The Miltons- and he’d known them for under an hour- were wacky and weird and if he was honest, he liked them. Especially Castiel. What was that? he berated himself. Especially Castiel? What kind of girl are you?

“Dean?” Bobby asked, concern creeping into his tone.

“Yeah. We’ll be fine.”


	5. Angel atop the Christmas Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's Christmas without a tree decorated under the influence of sexual tension?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Five
> 
> This fic was written by Holmes and beta'd by the ever grammatically correct and generally brilliant NotQuiteWatson.

Dean turned his phone off. Christmas at the Miltons’ was go, then. And, all of a sudden, there wasn’t a door against his back, and Dean was falling. Someone was underneath him, and they landed on the carpet, a mess of limbs. 

Placing his hands on the carpet, Dean pushed himself up to his knees. The body below him was Castiel. “Hello Dean.”

“Hi,” Dean said, eyeing the tangle of lights between them. “Sorry.”

Castiel sighed and sat up. The wires hung off his limbs as if he was a Christmas tree. Dean laughed, then covered his mouth. “All you need is a little angel to top that.”

Silence. Castiel’s brow crinkled, but he didn’t respond. Awkwardly, Dean adjusted his blanket and looked around the hallway. “Anything Sam and I can do?” he asked.

Castiel held up the snarl of lights. “You can help Anna and I decorate the tree if you’d like,” he offered, “it’s our Christmas tradition.”

Pleased to be doing something, Dean got up and offered Castiel a hand. He nearly stumbled on the lights, but together they got the bundle through to the living room, stopping only to invite Sam and Anna to join them on the way.

The tree was a good eight feet tall and barely fit in the living room, despite the height of the ceiling in one corner. Dean eyed Sam, who looked intimidated to have encountered something taller than him for once. “Well,” he said, and clapped his hands together, “Lets do this!”

“Hang on a second.” 

Dean turned to see Anna with her hands on her hips. 

“I have a plan for this.”  
\--

Within seconds, Dean had been assigned the unreasonably complicated task of wrapping tinsel around some very specific parts of the tree, while Sam and Castiel handled the mountain of baubles that Anna kept producing from the boxes. 

By the time Dean had finally adjusted the tinsel to Anna’s satisfaction, he was seriously re-evaluating his opinion of the ‘fiery red-head’ stereotype- Anna was definitely fiery and fierce. His type, he mused, and wondered if it was impolite to try and seduce your hosts. 

Too busy staring at Anna, Dean poked himself in the eye with a branch. He squeezed his eyes shut and then blinked away the moisture he could feel forming. When he opened his eyes he nearly fell over- Castiel was standing with his face about an inch away from Dean’s.

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked, and tilted his head in a way that reminded Dean irrefutably of a little puppy. He met Castiel’s- and dude that name was too much of a mouthful to say- blue eyes and found it inexplicably hard to look away cause wow those eyes were kinda beautiful.

“Cas,” he said warningly, doing his best to retain coherency, “personal space.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed, but he moved back. “Cas?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Dean grinned, rather proud of himself, “it’s a nickname.”

Cas nodded. “Hey, Winchester!” Anna called, brandishing a box full of their christmas lights. “Stop the soulful staring and give me a hand.”  
\--

They got an unofficial system down, with Anna handling the aesthetics of the whole thing, Sam handling the top of the tree, and Dean keeping a running commentary on the whole thing while aiding Cas in messing up Anna’s aesthetic.

At some point Anna had turned on the radio and found a station that apparently blasted Christmas songs twenty-four hours a day. Dean spotted Sam dancing and teased him mercilessly until Sam caught him singing and returned the favour.

“No angel for the tree?” Dean asked when they stepped back to admire their work. Cas, stood beside him, shook his head. “How come?”

Anna laughed mirthlessly. “We’ve got enough angels in this family without another one on top of the tree watching us.” 

“Also,” Gabriel said, sauntering in with a bauble in hand, “apparently it’s ‘indecent’ to decorate them.” He held the bauble up to the light, considered it, and threw it at Sam, who yelped but somehow managed to catch it. “I thought I’d add some more realistic features- and clothes,” Gabriel explained. Gabriel saw Sam and Dean’s confused looks and sighed. He pointed at himself and swirled his finger. “Hello? Trickster.”

“Yeah,” Anna interrupted, “and that Trickster is on break this Christmas, right?” 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “If you say so, sis.”

“I do.”


	6. But for a Snowball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first try writing Sabriel, so let me know what you think.
> 
> Day Six
> 
> This fic was written by Holmes and beta'd by the ever grammatically correct and generally brilliant NotQuiteWatson.

The tree was a glistening mess of lights and baubles by the time the five of them collapsed, exhausted, on the assorted armchairs and couches that took up the rest of the room. 

Despite there being several empty chairs, Gabriel had elected to sit on the arm of Sam’s. Mildly uncomfortable, Sam let his arm drop from the rest. Unfortunately, Gabriel seemed to take this as an invitation and slid down onto the chair so they were both squashed side by side.

Sam did his best approximation of a smile. It wasn’t that Gabriel wasn’t handsome- because hell, those whiskey-gold eyes and that cheeky smile were compelling- but more Sam’s dating history. Everyone he’d ever dated had died. Not that it was his fault, but he couldn’t quite bear the thought of anything happening to- to the man he’d just met and yet, somehow, seemed to be developing a massive crush on.

Speaking of crushes, it certainly looked like Dean had managed to develop a rather large one on the blue-eyed Milton, Castiel. His eyes had barely left Cas’ form since they entered the kitchen, and, if the way Cas kept gravitating towards Dean was any indicator, his affection was mutual.

Reaching inside his jacket pocket, Gabriel pulled out two lollipops. He ripped the plastic of both and stuck one- a huge tootsie-roll centered one- in his mouth, then offered the other to Sam.

“I’m fine.” Sam insisted, but Gabriel waved it in his face until he relented and snatched it from his grasp. He popped the candy into his mouth and did his best to ignore Gabriel’s smug smirk. 

“Hey Samsquatch,” Gabriel said thoughtfully through his mouthful of sucker, “how’d you feel about a game of Twister?” Sam spluttered, nearly choking on his lollipop. He yanked the sucker out of his mouth and turned his head to face Gabriel. 

“Sorry what?” He asked, finally focusing his attention entirely on Gabriel rather than on his brother’s busy eye-fucking with Cas.

“Twister.” Gabriel repeated. “Could get interesting with that height of yours.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Sam, who tried to inch further away from Gabriel- at least as much the armchair would allow-, mollified. 

Carrying bags and bags of tinsel over her arm, Anna bustled past the chair, and knocked into Gabriel, who fell right into Sam’s lap. Flustered, Sam moved to push Gabriel off, hyper aware of how flushed his face must be; he let his hands hover, unsure of how to let Gabriel down nicely.

Laughing, Gabriel pressed the palms of his hands to Sam’s. If Sam had had to guess, he would have said he was getting ready to make a bad joke or an innuendo. But all that went out the window when a goddamn electrical current shot up Sam’s arm as their palms made contact.

Dimly Sam registered the door opening, but he was more interested in interlacing his fingers with Gabriel’s. He could feel Gabriel’s hot breath on his face and dammit it looked like he might as well go in for a kiss now. 

Sam leaned in, aware his fingernails were digging into the back of Gabriel’s hand… and then gasped when a ball of ice-cold snow hit him on the cheek. Blinking the flakes out of his eyes, Sam turned his head just in time to see Luke and Diri disappear out the door, giggling.

“You’re a great big bag of dicks!” Gabriel yelled, and jumped off Sam’s lap. He ran for the door, grabbing coat, hat, scarf, and boots from the hallway as he went. Just before he opened the door, he turned back to face Sam. “Lets go beat their asses.”

Sam laughed and stood up. Michael, still slumped on the sofa, looked him up and down. “Borrow some of Luke’s winter stuff,” he advised “and you should be alright.”

A few minutes later, Sam stumbled out the door just in time to get hit by another snowball.


	7. Jack Frost nipping at your nose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuddles, basically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: Back to Dean and Cas
> 
> Written by Holmes and beta'd and brit-picked by the ever excellent and inspiring NotQuiteWatson

Anna hefted one of the unopened boxes of baubles. “Can you take this upstairs, Cas?” she asked, and handed him the crate. “Get the table settings while you’re there.” Cas nodded mutely and started for the stairs. Dean watched him go, still trying to breathe after Cas left his personal space. “Take Dean.” Anna called after Cas, and Cas reappeared round the corner. “You’ll need help carrying the boxes.”

Dean smiled at Anna, then followed Cas up the stairs. There was no way he’d known this dude long enough to have a friggin crush on him, and yet here he was, blushing like a teenager. 

The attic was quiet. Christmas music didn’t, apparently, reach up that far in a house, and the dusty room was strangely calming. But there were boxes everywhere. “So where are the table settings?” 

Cas smiled and sat down on the nearest stack. “They’re in the basement.” 

“Oh.” Dean scratched the back of his neck and looked around. Things were spilling out of boxes, other bits and bobs were balanced precariously on top of old dressers and cabinets with sheets half thrown over them. He bent down and picked up an angel statuette from where it lay, broken neatly in two, on the wooden floor. Dean turned to Cas, who had picked up a book from on top of a crate and was flipping idly through the pages. “So why’d Anna send us up here?”

“This is where we come for quiet time.” Cas mumbled, setting down his book. His brow crinkled. “I don’t quite understand why she sent you up here with me- I’m usually the one who wants to get away from the festivities.”

There was a box on Cas’ other side and Dean sat on it gingerly, wary of the contents. “Get away?”

“From Luke and Gabriel, generally.” Cas huffed out a small laugh and tipped back his head. “They have an annual prank contest around this time of year.”

Dean peered out the small attic window to see his brother, Gabriel, Luke, and Diri engaged in a massive snowball fight. “Looks like they’re a bit busy for pranks.” 

Silence fell between the two men, both lost in their own minds. Dean’s hand itched to reach over and take Cas’ where it lay on the box beside him, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to. There were too many implications. Too many consequences. Damn it he was straight! At least, he was pretty sure he was.

It was cold in the attic, and Dean could see Cas was shivering. He cast his eye around for a blanket- something that would excuse him from offering a hug-, and came up with nothing. Zilch. “No heating in here?” Dean offered lightly. Cas shook his head furiously. There was a bluish tinge to his lips. It was like some bizarre game of chicken, except Dean wasn’t playing.

When Cas’ shivering turned to full blown shudders, Dean gave up and shuffled closer. He reached an arm round Cas’ shoulders and pulled him into his personal space. Cas looked up at him, frowning. “Gotta stay warm.” Dean whispered. He felt Cas relax against him.

They sat together for a while, exhaling misty breaths, until Cas fell asleep, head on Dean’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any requests for the next chapters, do let me know. I've got a couple planned, but there's room for marshmallow roasting or snowman building if you so wish.


	8. Snow Angels and Snow Devils

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 8: Sabriel and Snow Angels, with snarky Lucifer thrown in for free
> 
> Written by Holmes, beta'd by anya99, and hopefully soon to be beta'd and brit-picked by the lovely NotQuiteWatson.

Eventually, face full of snow and ice, the three Miltons and the one Winchester called their snowball fight a draw. Sam’s nose was frozen, his toes were numb. Luke and Diri hadn’t fared much better, and Gabriel had little spikes of ice coating what little of his fringe was visible under his hat. Without really thinking about it, Sam reached a hand and ran his fingers through Gabriel’s hair, sending particles of snow everywhere. 

Luke wolf-whistled, but didn’t comment, and Sam thanked him for it. There was the sensation of his borrowed coat being tugged, and he looked down to see little Diri smiling up at him. “Can we make snow angels?” he asked excitedly. Sam grinned, remembering asking the same thing of Dean, and crouched down beside the small boy.

“Sure.”

“Nauseating display there, Sasquatch.” Gabriel’s fingers, ice cold, pulled on his hair until he stood up. “Come on then.” 

There was a span of untouched snow near where Sam assumed the driveway would normally be, and he plodded over and chose a spot. Luke followed him, falling backwards into the snow without hesitation. He didn’t move his arms though. Instead, Luke got up and made two little indents by his head: devil’s horns. 

“Huh.” Luke looked up at Sam’s voice, a glint in his eyes. 

He held up his arms in a gesture of triumph, tilting his head back. “I’m Lucifer, Sammy. ‘This is the deepest level of hell,” he quoted, lying back down in his snowy indent, “‘where the fallen angel Satan himself resides. His wings flap eternally, producing chilling cold winds that freeze the thick ice.’” Sam frowned. “Dante.” Luke added helpfully.

“My ass is colder than the ninth circle of hell.” Gabriel sauntered over, hands stuck deep inside his pockets. Sam looked around for Diri, catching sight of the boy just as he slipped back inside the warm house. His fingers twitched just thinking of the warmth of the warm fire inside. 

Clapping his hands together in an effort to get some warmth to them, Sam turned to Gabriel. His new friend was lying on the ground in his own snow-angel, with massive wings and a small, finger-traced halo. With a longing look inside, Sam stepped into the snow between Gabriel and Luke, and lay down. The snow made a pleasant crunch as he settled into it, and he could feel its coldness on his neck when he sunk fully into the snow. 

Sam spread out his arms, intending to make wings, but his fingertips encountered something mildly warmer than the snow. Curious, Sam turned his head, getting a mouthful of snow in the process, and realised his hand was atop Gabriel’s. His heartbeat thundered in his ears for a moment until he realised that, instead of snatching his hand away, Gabriel had turned his hand slightly, so their palms touched. Cautiously, as if reaching out to a wild animal that might flee at any moment, Sam let his fingertips slide between Gabriel’s fingers until their hands were interlinked. 

So Sam lay there, in between a devil and an angel, and made a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone would like to fan art the ending to this I would love you forever.


	9. Rocking Around The Sexual Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dancing and sleepy cuteness… and Gabriel meddling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 9: In which Destiel becomes the new "no homo"
> 
> Written by Holmes and beta'd by the ever excellent NotQuiteWatson, suggestions and read through cuteness from the magnaminous anya99

When Cas finally woke up, Dean had fallen asleep beside him in the attic, fingers curled tightly round his own. Smiling softly, Cas shook him awake. He guided Dean down the stairs, unwilling to relinquish his hold on Dean’s hand. 

Walking into the sitting room, they got lots of raised eyebrows, but no one made any comment. Cas flopped down beside Dean on the couch, wondering if Dean would be the one to broach the topic of their interlinked hands, or if he would have to. 

“Dean?” he asked softly.

“Yeah?” Dean said, voice gruff.

Before they could continue, Michael brought in snacks and drink. Dean, unusually infected with holiday cheer, drank enough to fell a reindeer- probably all seven of them. And, although Dean had a proud reputation for being a difficult person to make drunk, by the end of the evening, he was dancing around the living room and belting out Christmas tunes to the utter amusement of all of the Miltons.

_“Rockin’ around the Christmas tree,_  
 _at the christmas party hop,_  
 _mistletoe hung where you can see,_  
 _every couple tries to stop-"_

Sam got up and tried to drag Dean back to the couch, but Gabriel grabbed the tail of his borrowed shirt and sat him back down. "Stop worrying about your brother," Gabriel lifted his mug,"I put a little of my own top-strength whiskey on offer- he'll be fine."

_“Rockin' around the Christmas tree,_  
 _Let the Christmas spirit ring,_  
 _Later we'll have some pumpkin pie,_  
 _And we'll do some carolling.”_

Dean, meanwhile, decided that he couldn't dance by himself. _I could ask Anna_ , he thought, and headed her way. But, as he walked her way, he noticed Cas was sitting awkwardly on the arm of the couch and looking somewhere between bored and scared. That did it. "Cas." He said, yanking Cas to his feet. "Dance with me."

It soon became apparent that Cas couldn't dance. "Oh come on!" Anna laughed, and got up. "Dean, stand like this." She stood beside Dean and pushed him until he mimicked her stance. "Now put your hand on Cas' waist," she instructed, "and take his left hand with your right." 

_“You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear,_  
 _Voices singing, "Let's be jolly,_  
 _Deck the halls with boughs of holly",_  
 _Rockin' around the Christmas tree,_  
 _Have a happy holiday,_  
 _Everyone dancin' merrily,_  
 _In the new old-fashioned way.”_

Dean hesitated- even drunk he was stubbornly straight and, even thought Cas was definitely the kind of dude he’d be bi for, he had a reputation. His hand hovered in the air until Anna sighed and took his hand and placed it on Cas' waist. She wandered over to the CD player and changed the song to “White Christmas”.

“Now you two can dance,” she said brightly, and pulled Luke to his feet, ignoring his complaints, “and it’ll really be Christmas.”  
-  
Cas looked at where Dean’s hand was and his cheeks coloured. “Dean,” he whispered, “It’s fine if you don’t want to-”

But Dean caught him by the hand and, dropping his own hand from Castiel’s waist, spun him in a circle. Cas stumbled and careened right into Dean, who, somehow, caught him by the waist and started to waltz.

“You can dance.” Cas said in a hushed voice, eyes fixed firmly on his feet.

“Better with a partner.” he mumbled back, and tilted his head forward so their foreheads touched.

Dean breathed in. The air- or maybe Cas- smelled vaguely like cinnamon. 

“And that, Diri, is why you’re not allowed to watched R rated films.”  
\--


	10. Mistletoe hung where you can see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 10 (Mince Pies and Mistletoe)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Holmes

Anna shushed Luke and chivvied everyone out of the room, shooting a fond look at Cas. The music still played, crooning White Christmas out of the old CD player, and the two of them swayed to it.

Gabriel leant against the doorframe. “Think I ought to put a rainbow on the Christmas tree?” he asked, poking Sam’s side. Sam laughed and reached out to grasp the door-handle, shielding his brother and his new… boyfriend from prying eyes.

Anna clapped her hands. “Alright.” She said briskly, surveying those who had traipsed into the kitchen. “Time to make mince pies.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose. A wave of half-hearted moans spread through the Milton brothers, but they all soon got started, pulling bowls and trays and flour from cupboards without needing to ask who’d do what. He stood awkwardly by the unit, watching and trying to help. Eventually he spotted Inias trying to reach a packet of flour that was far out of his reach and hurried over, glad to make use of the height Dean teased him for.

“Well Gigantor,” Gabriel called when he got back to the unit, “looks like you and me will be pairing up.” Sam smiled and looked around. The rest of the Miltons had paired up- Luke with Diri, Inias with Michael, and Anna by herself, brandishing a cookbook.

Anna picked up a timer. “And everyone-” Everyone tensed, leaving Sam to stand there in bewilderment, wondering what was going on. “Go!” she shouted, and instantly there was chaos. People were putting the ingredients in their bowls hazardously, not bothering to check the weights- they obviously knew on instinct how much to use, and there weren’t anywhere near enough scales to go round.

He turned to Gabriel, who was already mixing some golden syrup into his floury bowl. “What’s going on?” he asked, voice raised a little to be heard over the sound of four lots of mince pies being made.

“It’s a race.” Gabriel replied, not lifting his eyes from the bowl. “Can you grab the mince-meat for me Sasquatch?”

It took longer than Sam would have liked to navigate the kitchen and find the mince meat. With every step there seemed to be a new obstacle to avoid, and half way across the room the air filled with flour when Luke and Diri set of a Flour bomb they’d made. Coughing, Sam waved his hand in front of his face and blinked, only to find Anna standing in front of him holding the mince meat.

“Here you go,” she coughed, then made her way back to her station, where her dough was already moulded, filled, and covered.

Gabriel laughed as Sam handed over the jar, and reached up to brush the flour of Sam’s cheeks, fingers lingering a bit longer than was, perhaps, strictly necessary. Sam’s breath hitched. He looked up and gulped, seeing strands of a delicate plant hanging from the low ceiling beams.

“Mistletoe.” he mumbled, very determinedly not looking at Gabriel’s lips.

"Oh yeah?" Gabriel’s gaze seemed to be fixated on Sam too, and he leaned forward, mince-pie dough long forgotten. "Let’s honour some traditions then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd for the moment, so if you see any mistakes, drop me a line and I'll fix them.


	11. Kiss him once for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 11  
> In which (at last) Dean and Cas get to snuggle and kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Holmes and (mostly) beta'd and brit-picked by the fantastic, sweet, and every-sassy NotQuiteWatson

The cinnamon smell was definitely coming from Cas, Dean decided. It was making him light-headed, and he nosed the juncture between neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. Cas’ breaths were coming in quick gasps, and Dean could feel his fingernails digging into his shoulders. 

“Dean?” 

Cas’ blue eyes were filled with uncertainty, but Dean hushed him and pressed their lips together once, then moved back. He moved his hands up to frame Cas’ face, burying his fingers in his permanently ruffled hair. Cas smiled, lips curving up, eyes shining. Cas leant forward, touching their foreheads together again, and huffed out a breath: half exhale, half laugh.

“Merry Christmas.” Dean grinned and grabbed Cas’ hand. Cas’ skin was smooth, not as rough as Dean’s work-hardened palms, and their hands fitted together smoothly. 

For a moment they just breathed in tandem, relishing the calm. Distantly, Dean realised that the CD had reached its end and was whirring quietly, a constant background to their breaths. Cas laid his head on Dean’s shoulder, wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, and let Dean do the same to him.

Still entangled in embrace, the two of them stumbled to over to the couch. They sank into the cushions, yanking pillows over until they were ensconced in their own little nest. Cas reached over the arm of the sofa and pulled a blanket, patterned with reindeer and snowman in a deep shade of red over the two of them. 

Dean slipped his arm up to curl around Cas’ shoulder, shuddering out a sigh. It felt… right. “This okay, Cas?” 

“I could use some hot chocolate.” Cas admitted, tucking his head under Dean’s chin. Dean barked out a laugh and, after a moment’s hesitation, dropped a kiss on the top of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today- longer one tomorrow! Enjoy.


	12. All I Want For Christmas...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 12
> 
> Written by Holmes

Shivering, Dean clapped stuck his hands in his pockets. The storm had abated overnight, but snowflakes the size of his fist still fell in swirling sheets. It wasn’t possible to walk through the mountains of white, and it felt more like climbing Mount Everest than going down a driveway. The snow was of the sticky, crunchy sort. Unfortunately that didn’t mean it was always safe to stand on without a foot sinking through several feet of the stuff, and Dean had ended up crawling for the first part, dispersing his weight so as to sink less. 

He was wrapped up in most of the winter clothes that the Miltons owned- at least those that would fit him- and the bitter cold was still getting in. Michael had lent him a shovel and, as soon as Sam came out of the bedroom he seemed to be sharing with Gabriel- never mind how on earth that had happened- he would be helping Dean dig a path down to the Impala. 

Until then, Dean had decided to head down to the Impala in his snow gear and try and dig out something- anything- to give the Milton’s for Christmas. 

When he finally reached the Impala, she was barely visible under the wet snow, only the solitary headlight and half a door that were uncovered giving any hint that she was there at all. Dean, with a little work, managed to open the window. He stuck his upper body through the gap and began rooting around in the glove compartment. There was the four balls of wool Ellen had asked him to buy for her at the store on the way up, an empty sketch book, endless papers, a Santa hat from who knew when, and three bags of candy that had been meant as provisions for the drive. 

With some difficulty, Dean extracted himself from the Impala and closed the window as best as he could. The bright orange winter jacket Michael had insisted he borrow had huge pockets, and Dean gladly crammed the things he’d found in the glove compartment in them, as well as a couple of blankets and a magazine they’d left behind the day before. As he shoved his things into the pockets, Dean discovered several odd gloves and some discarded lollipops. If the constantly present sucker in Gabriel’s mouth was anything to judge by, this was his coat. 

Dean was just pushing open the door again when Sam burst out of it, knocking him backwards into the snow again. Mouth full of snow and Sam’s weight on top of him, Dean struggled to get up. “Sammy?” he asked, spitting out the rapidly melting ice. 

“What are we getting the Miltons for Christmas?” Sam had obviously thrown on the first things he had found and, as a result, was wearing a curious mix of clothing. He had a scarf that looked like it must be Diri’s, if the length was anything to go by; a hat that was probably Anna’s, lined by little woollen mince pies as it was; a coat that barely covered his stomach, and gloves that were far too big on him. Dean held back a laugh for a second, then snorted. 

“Handled it Sammy,” he said fondly, pulling the scarf and hat off his brother, “I’ve got a whole lotta stuff from Baby.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

He held up a finger to signal that Sam should wait, and gestured to his pockets. “I got candy for Inias, Diri, and Gabriel,” he said proudly, pointing to the pockets holding the sweets, “a sketchbook- for Luke or Anna, I guess-, Santa hat for Michael…” 

“What are you getting Cas?” Sam interrupted. Dean felt his cheeks warm up and looked away.

“Nothing much.” He said, as casually as he could manage.

“Dean…” Sam’s bitchface was back- number 4 if Dean was right. The one that said _Dean you’re my brother I know you like the back of my hand don’t think you can get away with not telling me_. Seemed a lot to be able to say with one facial expression, but Sam did it.

“I’m knitting him something, okay?” Dean snapped, and Sam’s face split into a stupidly wide grin.

“Dean, you have fallen so hard for Cas.”


	13. Deals and Doctor Who

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 13
> 
> Written by Holmes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, neither Doctor Who nor Supernatural belongs to me. And, if they did, those poor babies would never suffer anything bad again and would spend most episodes in cute, adventurous fluff and no one but the bad guys would die.
> 
> Happy Holidays everyone.

Gabriel was just stuffing a third batch of mince pies into the oven when Sam snuck up behind him. It was quite a feat for someone who had been nicknamed ‘Sasquatch’ and ‘Gigantor’, but, thanks to having Dean as a brother, Sam managed just fine. He tapped Gabriel on the shoulder and, once he’d turned around, pressed a cup of hot chocolate into his hands and a kiss to his lips.

“Hi Gabriel.” Sam said, smiling softly. Gabriel smirked back at him and used his free hand to tug Sam back down to kiss him.

Dean cleared his throat after a moment, uncomfortably fiddling with the balls of wool in his arms. “Hi Dean-o,” Gabriel said, finally relinquishing his hold on Sam’s shirt collar, “what do you need?”

“I need…” Dean shot Sam a pleading look, already sensing that this would be embarrassing. Sam shook his head, and Dean took a deep breath. “I need you to teach me how to knit.” 

Gabriel blinked, and then burst out laughing. He wiped away invisible tears of mirth. “Sure thing,” he snorted. “But on one condition.”

Dean braced himself for the worst, fingers tightening hold on the soft blue balls of wool. “Okay, shoot.”

Gabriel looked Dean up and down, seemingly weighing his worth. “I need your help pranking Luke.”

“Cr _ap_.”  
-

Gabriel told Sam and Dean to meet him back in the pantry in fifteen minutes time. The two brothers made their way into the small room, eyeing all the boxes of mince pies, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and even one Christmas pudding with greedy eyes. Dean felt uncharacteristically nervous, and kept unwinding and rewinding the wool on the one ball he’d kept in his pocket. Eventually Sam took it off him and they waited in silence.

“So you and Gabriel.” Dean said after a while.

“So you and Castiel.” Sam offered right back. Dean laughed, and Sam soon joined in. Dean clapped Sam on the back before pulling him down into a hug. 

“Well done lil’ brother.”

“Isn’t that touching.” Dean looked over Sam’s shoulder to see Gabriel standing in the doorway holding three rolls of wrapping paper and a glue gun, as well as a huge box of clingfilm. Gabriel held out the wrapping paper to Dean and the glue gun to Sam, keeping the clingfilm for himself. Dean raised his eyebrows, but accepted the rolls. 

“I’ve recruited Inias to help with some of this,” Gabriel explained as they mounted the stairs that led to Luke’s bedroom. The younger Milton was waiting outside Luke’s door, bouncing on his heels with a mix of nervousness and excitement. Luke’s door was painted red, and a sign was stuck to it that read “The Devil is IN”. 

“Michael’s making Luke clear the drive,” Inias called, opening the door for them, “He and Luke had a huge fight because Luke wouldn’t do like Dad said and help Anna make Christmas dinner.” Gabriel laughed and high-fived Inias, handed him a roll of wrapping paper that he’d pinched from Sam, and headed into the bedroom.

Dean followed Gabriel and Inias, frowning at the mess that was Luke’s room. There were band posters and clothes everywhere, most of which bore sarcastic or sassy motifs. The guy had good taste though, and Dean mentally reminded himself to tell Luke that he’d liked his stuff. “Alright Gabriel,” he said gruffly, “what are we doing?” 

Gabriel grinned, and Sam visibly flinched- there was mischievous intent in Gabriel’s eyes, and it was a little frightening. Gabriel clapped his hands together. “Okay guys.”  
-

An hour later, Luke’s room was unrecognizable. Dean and Sam had wrapped every surface and object that they could in Christmas wrapping paper, and Inias and Gabriel had- somehow- managed to stick a fake tree to the ceiling and decorate it. Inias had then filled Luke’s pillow with shaving cream while Sam replaced the soft centres of most of his oreo store with toothpaste. Although he would never admit it, he marveled at Gabriel’s genius.

The four of them snuck out of Luke’s room, cautiously casting an eye around for Luke or any of the other Miltons. Dean pretended not to notice Gabriel and Sam holding hands and accompanied them down to the kitchen, where Gabriel promptly started feeding Sam mince pies with an adoring smile on his face. Dean allowed himself a little smile. “Gabriel?” he interrupted when he decided he couldn’t take the mind-melting domesticness of the picture anymore. “You going to teach me how to knit now?”

“Give me an hour, Dean-o.” Dean frowned and stalked out of the kitchen, stuffing the ball of wool back in his pocket on his way. It only took him a few minutes to find Cas, sat in front of the TV with Diri and Michael, watching an old episode of Doctor Who. He sat down beside Cas, who quickly snuggled up to him, and turned his attention to the screen. 

After a moment he noticed he was absent-mindedly stroking Cas’ neck, and stopped. “Please carry on.” Cas mumbled into Dean’s neck. Dean smiled and traced Cas’ shoulders, smile turning into a satisfied grin when the touch elicited a happy shiver from him. 

Diri turned his attention to the two of them, eyes meeting Dean’s and then travelling down to where Dean was now running his fingers over the smooth skin of Cas’ back. Diri shuffled closer to Michael and, in a hushed voice that was still easily heard by Dean, mumbled a question. “Mich’l, are Dean n’ Cas like Rose and the Tenth Doct’r?”


	14. Hark! Lucifer's out to get your ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 14 (In which Luke is out for revenge and Cas looks adorable in a sock monkey hat)
> 
> Written by Holmes and beta'd, brit-picked, and idea-fueled by the flawless and funny NotQuiteWatson
> 
> (also NotQuiteWatson wrote a few lines everyone applaud)

Cas and Dean ended up marathoning the second and third seasons of the New Doctor Who for the rest of the morning, sharing kisses and hugs on the couch. When Gabriel sprinted in, Cas had his feet tucked under Dean’s thighs and the two of them were drinking hot chocolate while discussing their favourite episodes of the show.

“Guys, you got to hide me.” Gabriel leaped over the couch, then started running around the room, checking for hiding spots. Dean set down his hot chocolate, wondering what Gabriel needed this time. Cas passed him the remote and Dean paused their episode of Doctor Who right as the TARDIS disappeared. 

“What did you do this time?” Cas asked interestedly, then took another sip of hot chocolate. 

“Oh nothing much,” Gabriel said, voice a tad hysterical. He yanked the curtains open and tried to hide in the folds of the massive blue drapes. “Just, you know,” he stuck his head out the other end, “gift-wrap Luke’s room for Christmas.”

Dean snorted and held up his hands. “Can’t help.” he said, barely keeping the laughter out of his voice. “You’ve got it coming.”

“Come on guys…” He pleaded. “Dean? We had a deal.”

“Don’t remember covering for you being in the conditions,” Dean grinned first at Gabriel, then at Cas. Gabriel peeked out from behind a chair, eyes wide.

Dean finally relented. “You’re as bad as Sammy, you know that? You come in here, all innocent, and give us puppy eyes...” 

“...And you decide to help me anyway.” Gabriel smiled.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Right, Cas-” he disentangled himself and stood up- “You help him find a hiding place. I’ll go and distract Luke.” Cas frowned, eyebrows drawing together in a way that gave him an expression nearly as adorable and irresistible as Sam’s puppy dog eyes. 

“Dean, why do you owe Gabriel anything?” Dean froze, halfway up the steps that led to the kitchen. Damn. He clenched and unclenched his fists, wondering what to tell Cas. Eventually he turned and ran back down the stairs. 

“Cas, I’ll explain later.” He pulled the shorter man into a hug, kissed him briefly on the cheek, and ran off to try and stall Luke.  
-

He met Luke as he stomped through the living room, a frightening image with wrapping paper caught up in his hair and a couple of baubles caught in his jumper to reflect his murderous expression. “Hey Luke!” Dean called, stepping into Lucifer’s path. His brain jumped into overdrive- why the hell did he need Luke to an urgent enough degree to stop him murdering Sammy’s boyfriend?

“What?” Luke growled, pausing. “I’m busy.”

Dean held up a hand, thinking at several miles an hour. “But I need your help.” Luke’s brow furrowed. The door creaked open, and Dean glanced over to see Michael and Anna walking in, pulling off countless layers of winter wear as they did. 

“You guys want hot chocolate?” Michael asked, throwing his jacket over a peg. Anna headed over to the fire and began piling kindling and logs together, oblivious to the tension. 

Luke’s mouth tightened and he rounded on Michael. “Gabriel’s has crossed the line, Michael.”

Michael’s eyebrows all but disappeared behind his hair, and he set down the two mugs he’d just picked up. “What did he do now?” he asked, sounding downright weary. Dean breathed out a sigh, hoping Luke’s desire to get Gabriel in trouble might give Cas enough time to hide the Trickster.

Ripping a bit of wrapping paper out of his hair, Luke held the sheet up as evidence. “He. Wallpapered. My. Room.” Michael looked like he was trying to choose between being angry or bursting into laughter, but Luke’s expression kept him from doing either. “With Christmas Wrapping Paper!” Luke yelled, yanking more paper out of his hair and off his clothes.

Dean decided that this was the best diversion he was going to get and, muttering some excuse about grabbing something from the Impala, snatched a coat, scarf, and gloves from the store by the door. He picked up an extra set of gear and ran off to find Sam, Cas, and Gabriel. 

He found them trying to hide Gabriel in a chest. “Put on some winter stuff.” he panted, thrusting the spare stuff into Sam’s arms before yanking on his own boots and gloves. 

“What why?” Sam put the coat on automatically, used to doing as Dean said. 

“We’re hiding Gabriel outside,” Dean explained, pulling Gabriel out of the chest. 

Cas appeared- although Dean hadn’t noticed him disappear in the first place- with clothes for himself and Gabriel and passed a set wordlessly over to his brother. “You’re an angel,” Dean said warmly, making Cas blush, “what would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn.” Cas commented, pulling on a sock monkey hat. Dean laughed and, seeing that everyone was ready, took Cas’ hand and ran out the back door.


	15. Breath knocked right out of me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 15: Basically shameless cliche and excuses to have confused!Sam (because why not?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Holmes
> 
> Unbeta'd as of yet- all mistakes are my own. Do not hesitate to let me know if I make any.

The sky was grey and dark, heralded by clouds. In the distance, a sheet of white approached. Dean scowled at the oncoming storm and dropped, exhausted, onto the nearest solid-looking pile of snow… and sank right through it. Running through snow was tiring- especially when trying to herd along a cute guy who never seemed to have encountered snow before, if the amount of times he fell over face-first was any indication of experience.

He yanked off the too-small hat he’d pulled on as they ran out and turned to Gabriel, who had collapsed beside him. “What do you usually do when Luke’s on warpath?” 

Sam snorted and went to sit down beside Gabriel, gingerly lowering himself onto the snow, worry on his face. Running through the deep snow had meant Sam had fallen over too, and snow adorned his hair, making it look like it had been decorated with ribbons or some other girly shit. Gabriel glanced at Dean and, ever so slowly, inched his arm around Sam’s shoulders. He shrugged. “Usually I challenge him to a duel.”

“A… duel?” Dean tried to sit up, but only ended up sinking further into the snow. He extended a hand in Cas’ direction. “Cas, can you help?” Cas grabbed Dean’s hand in both of his own, grip reassuringly strong, and pulled. Snow crunched as Dean put his weight forward, feet digging into the ground. He was nearly to his feet when the snow underneath his left foot crumbled and he fell backwards, pulling Cas with him. The full weight of Cas landed on top of him, forcing the air out of his already frozen lungs. 

Once the initial shock of having Cas land on him wore off, Dean noticed he wasn’t making any effort to move, and smiled. Careful not to displace any snow, Dean wormed his arms around Cas and held him.

“Sweet as this is, Winchester,” came the annoyingly smug voice of Gabriel, “my brother still happens to be out for my ass- and your’s too if you don’t move out of my brother’s personal space.”

Reluctantly, Dean lifted Cas off him and sat up. “Alright, I’ll bite. What do we do?”

Gabriel opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it closed again when the back door opened and Diri came running out, barely visible under a dozen layers of winter wear including, bizarrely enough, an employee baseball cap from the Wiener Hut. He floundered his way through the snow, sinking in up to his waist a couple of times, but eventually stumbling into Sam’s lap. 

Sam raised his hands up, looking terrified at the small bundle that had settled on him. “What do I do?” he squeaked, hands hovering a couple of inches over Diri’s head as he snuggled up to Sam. Gabriel laughed and pulled Diri off Sam. He quirked an eyebrow in Dean’s direction before setting his brother down. 

“We build a fort.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted to make a proper snow fort- seriously have you experienced the fun that even a half-assed one can bring? This is why I need more friends that like the snow.


	16. Jack Frost nipping at your nose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 16 (In which there's a snow-fort and Sam is worried. Also cuddles of a Destiel /and/ Sabriel nature)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Holmes and beta'd by the lovely anya99

It was like being a kid again, Sam thought. He and Gabriel were on the path to creating the most audacious battlements ever to grace a snow fort, complete with embrasures and merlons, as well as some ‘arrow slits’ that Gabriel had insisted on. Dean and Cas, meanwhile, were in the midst of an impromptu snowball fight and Sam didn’t have the heart to chastise them. 

“Can I help?” Diri popped up beside Gabriel, voice a little muffled behind his scarf and hat. 

“You can make a snowguard to defend us.” Dean offered, pausing in his snowball fight. Diri nodded eagerly and Dean grinned at him, only to get hit with by a lumpy snowball from Cas. Diri giggled and scooped up some snow. Carefully, wonder in his little face, he shaped it into a ball, and then got to his knees and began to roll it along. Sam smiled.  
-

It took the better part of an hour for their fort to be complete. Despite Gabriel’s fears, Lucifer didn’t make an appearance, leading him to announce that he must have forgiven Gabriel’s antics. Cas wasn’t so optimistic. He kept paused in his reinforcement of the front walls to glance anxiously at the closed back door. “He’ll come for you, Gabriel.” Cas insisted flatly, his voice raised to combat the rapidly rising wind. “And when he does, it won’t be pretty.”

Sam had known Gabriel for under 48 hours, but still he found he could read the flashes of feeling across Gabriel’s overly emotive face. Fear, a cover of smugness and smirks, a gleam of fondness when Sam wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s shivering form to shield him from the gale that was moving in- so many emotions in so little time… no wonder he guarded most of it with the cocky countenance. 

The five of them moved to shelter behind their shelter, breathing out a misty sigh of relief when it provided some cover from the snow and wind. “How long are we staying out here?” Cas was shivering visibly in Dean’s arms, the two of them cuddling Diri’s diminutive form between them. 

Gabriel tugged down his hat a little so it covered his ears and buried his face in Sam’s shoulder. “You can go in.” Gabriel said tiredly through Sam’s coat. “This is my fault.” Sam squeezed Gabriel’s hand and, in a movement that made Gabriel gasp, stood up. Dean started laughing when he realised Gabriel was being cradled to Sam’s chest. Sam, with a nod in Dean’s direction, ran for the door, Gabriel in tow. Gabriel didn’t seem to care though, only tightened his grip. Sam adjusted his hold, only to have Gabriel stretch his head up so he could whisper in Sam’s ear. “Crossing the threshold with me already? My, you’re eager.” Sam blushed but entered the house anyway. 

Luke was nowhere in sight, and Diri, Dean, and Castiel soon followed Sam inside. “It’s so warm.” Dean groaned, tugging off his layers as fast as he could. Cas watched him, taking his own layers off at a much slower pace, pausing ever so often to aid Diri. Dean eyed Sam, who still hadn’t put Gabriel down. “So, what are you going to do about Luke?”

Unconsciously, Sam’s fingers tightened around Gabriel’s side and legs, clutching him closer. “Probably hide out in the guest room I’m sleeping in and marathon Harry Potter until Luke runs off some steam.” 

One of Gabriel’s hands emerged from where it was compressed between his chest and Sam’s. Gabriel put his hand over Sam’s mouth and mumbled up at him: “Stop talking before you become any more perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still open for requests!


	17. Deck the Halls with Crappy Scarves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 17
> 
> In which Dean turns out to be a frankly awful knitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Holmes and beta'd by both the excellent NotQuiteWatson and the encouraging and frank anya99

Sam and Gabriel disappeared upstairs, and Dean gazed fondly after the pair. The ball of wool in his pocket seemed to weigh a ton all of a sudden, and Dean realised that, with Gabriel… otherwise occupied, he was going to have to find someone else to teach him how to knit. Preoccupied, it took Dean too long to realise that Cas had wrapped his arms around him from behind and was resting his head gently on Dean’s shoulder. 

“Lets continue our Doctor Who marathon,” Cas said, stretching up on his tiptoes to talk in Dean’s ear. Gently, Dean unwound Cas’ arms and spun around, smiling softly. 

“Sure, Cas,” he promised, the nickname falling easily off his tongue, “I got to handle a couple of things first, okay?” Dean stood up and handed Cas the remote. "Be back soon," he said, and ruffled Cas' hair.   
-

He found Anna and Michael in the kitchen, they were leant against the counter, sipping at mugs of tea. Dean eyed Michael uneasily, aware of how his request would sound. "Umm Anna?" He asked, shifting uneasily from foot to foot, "Can you help me for a moment?"

Anna set down her mug. "Sure, Dean. What do you need?" 

Pondering what to say, Dean lifted the ball of wool out of his pocket, marveling at the soft texture. "I was wondering if you could help me," Dean took a deep breath and fixed his eyes firmly on the stunning blue of the wool, "to learn to knit." 

Anna smiled. "Of course." Hand firm on his shoulder, Anna steered Dean out of the kitchen and to the dining table. "Just let me grab some needles."  
-

Knitting needles were frightening, and Dean immediately vowed never to upset Anna while she had them in her possession. She seemed to sense his apprehension though, and passed them over blunt end first. “You have wool?” 

Dean pulled the ball out of his pocket and set it on the table. Anna considered it, and nodded. “Okay, lets get started. First you need to cast on some stitches- lets say 30 for a scarf-” Fingers suddenly feeling like sausages, Dean fumbled with the wool, eventually casting on several clumsy stitches- great loops of wool that threatened to slide off the needle at any moment. 

By the time he got to the end of the row Dean was ready to swear that his fingers had never hurt that much before. Then Anna taught him to knit a proper row- “Needle through, loop around, pull off. It’s easy.” 

Dean dropped a tenth stitch.

Anna put her hands over his, sensing that he was reading to hurl his knitting through the window and outside, and guided Dean’s hands through the rest of the row. 

Just as Anna was guiding Dean through the fifth row of his work, a timer started beeping. Anna shot to her feet. “Sorry Dean,” she said apologetically, “but if I don’t get that out of the oven, Michael will.” She rolled her eyes. “You’ll do fine.”

Dean dropped another flipping stitch.  
-

Anna left him to it, and gradually it got darker outside of the window. Dean dropped half a dozen stitches for every dozen rows, still eventually he got into the rhythm. It was hard, but he managed. Through, loop, pull off, he repeated to himself, over and over until it became a mantra.

“Dean?” Dean looked up, broken out of his reverie, to see Cas standing in front of him in his pajamas. He looked hurt. “What happened to our Doctor Who marathon?” Immediately Dean set down his knitting and was on his feet, hands on Cas’ shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” Dean said earnestly, “I just wanted to finish-” What was he finishing? “-Sam’s Christmas present.” 

Cas eyed the scarf. “It is very good, Dean.” 

"Thanks Cas," 

Dean scrambled to hide the scarf from Cas. He was pretty sure he’d dropped another few stitches in the process though, and cursed himself. Cas craned his head a little, eyebrows drawn together.

"You know how to knit?" Cas questioned, eying the knitting needles in Dean’s hands with apprehensions because, try as he might, he seemed to be hardwired to hold them like they were weapons.

"Well...no." Dean looked down. 

"That is sweet Dean." Cas smiled up at Dean, and Dean swore that little grin was making his heart melt. He mumbled something about it being only the best for family and turned away. Suddenly an idea struck him and he rotated back so he faced Cas.

"Cas," he said, carefully choosing his words, "would you... Check the scarf?" Desperately hoping Cas wouldn't see through his little plot, Dean crossed his fingers behind his back. Cas' brow crinkled again. 

"Check the scarf for what?" Dean gulped and held up his half finished scarf so Cas could see it. 

"For the fit." Dean clarified, struggling to speak as casually as he could. "See if it'll hang right."

It was about the same length as his arm, and deformed. The wholes created by all his dropped and mangled stitches made it look like he'd been making constant buttonholes. It was awful. Cas didn't seem to think so though. He reached out a hand and brushed the wool, stroking it as if it were a kitten. 

Gingerly, Dean helped Cas wrap what there was of the scarf around his neck. He kept a firm hold on the knitting needles, lest all his hard work unravel. The colour was a perfect match for Cas' eyes, and he looked wistful when Dean, finding it hard to breathe, asked him to take it off. 

"I'm sure your brother will love it." Cas said gravely, and passed the scarf back to Dean. He wanted nothing more than to put it back around Cas' neck, crappy a scarf as it was, because it made him feel better, eased some ache.

“Yeah,” Dean said gruffly, “I’m sure he will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have got the scarf idea from gedry's fic "Love in every Stitch" which, despite its nc-17 content (fine I didn't actually read the nc-17 bit), is an adorable fic and can be read here: http://gedry.livejournal.com/177228.html
> 
> I'm being nice to you today- this is over 1000 words… goodness knows how I did it :P


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 18 (In which there is gratuitous Sabriel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Holmes and beta'd by the stubbornly dirty-minded yet excellent anya99
> 
> 7 entries left guys- thanks for sticking with.

Sam reached over Gabriel and grabbed the remote. The screen was the yellowed colour of old parchment, and Hedwig’s theme was playing softly as the credits rolled. Gabriel, shirt covered in popcorn and sweet wrappers, shoved weakly at Sam’s chest when he shifted, complaining that his pillow was moving. Turning off the TV, Sam settled back on Gabriel’s bed, letting Gabriel cuddle up to him. Once Gabriel had stopped wriggling, Sam wrapped his arms around Gabriel, who promptly buried his face in the juncture between Sam’s neck and shoulder. 

Gabriel had forced Sam into one of his too-large Christmas jumpers, and- for some reason-, Sam had agreed. It was actually quite comfortable, and the warm weight of Gabriel on his chest meant Sam didn’t even need the blanket Gabriel had draped over the both of them.

“How about we get some of those mince pies?” Sam asked, mumbling into Gabriel’s soft, pale brown hair. He trailed a hand down Gabriel’s side, waiting for an answer. The only response he got was a strangely high-pitched ‘meep’ when he reached Gabriel’s hip. Sam grinned. “Are you ticklish?” 

“No?” 

Sam laughed and swung his legs off the bed, nearly knocking Gabriel off in the process. Gabriel scowled. “Mince pies.” Sam reminded him, and helped him to his feet. Gabriel’s face lit up at the thought, and he all but ran out of the room.

“What about Luke?” Sam called after him, having to take advantage of his leg length to catch up because Gabriel was surprisingly fast for someone who couldn’t be more than 5 foot 8. 

“Don’t worry about him,” Gabriel yelled back, “he’ll try and prank me back but he won’t manage.” Sam chortled, then slowed down as they approached the stairs. Gabriel, on the other hand, leapt straight onto the banister and slid down as easily as if it were a slide. Impressed, Sam thundered down the stairs to meet him. 

Sam shrugged. “Didn’t fancy it.” he said. Gabriel didn’t look satisfied and, for fear of being forced to slide down it, Sam hurriedly kept talking. “Mince pies then?” 

Gabriel nodded and the two of them dashed through the door, almost making Anna drop a tray of cookies with their dramatic entrance. The smell alone could have stopped Sam in his tracks- an intoxicating mix of mince pies, cookies, mulled wine, and eggnog. By all rights it should have smelled awful, but somehow it worked. 

“You boys.” Anna said, and shook her head. “What do you want?”

“Mince pies.” Gabriel said. Anna tsked, but pointed to the counter, where several batches, still visibly hot, were cooling. 

The two of them leaned against the counter, eating mince pies. Diri came in, shot the two of them a curious look, and headed back out the door. Anna left behind him, muttering something about it being time for Diri to have a bath, leaving Sam and Gabriel alone. Sam closed his eyes, savouring the taste of the mince pies- they weren’t exactly like Ellen’s, but they were delicious.

Something hit Sam on the side of the head, and his eyes shot open, only to get whacked on the nose my a long stick that had some form of greenery hanging off the end. He whirled around just in time to see Gabriel get the same treatment. The stick, as it turned out, was being held by a very impish looking Diri, who was balanced on the unit across from them. The plant on the end of it was mistletoe by the look of it. As he watched, Diri hoisted it up further, so the mistletoe just brushed Sam’s forehead.

“What didja do that for, Diri?” Gabriel asked curiously. 

“Means you hafta kiss.” Diri smiled innocently, and tried to move closer, making the mistletoe hit Sam in the face again. Sam smiled tightly.

“Gabriel?” he said nervously.

“Might as well let the kiddo have his fun, Samsquatch.”

Sam didn't want to seem too eager so he took it slow. It was like they were gravitating towards each other, one millimeter at a time. Sam knew his face was flushed, but he leant forwards anyway. There was still an inch or two between their mouths, and then someone bumped into him- Anna, he registered dimly- and there was no space.

“Come on Diri, time for your bath.” Anna said, smirking. She lifted Diri down off the counter and swept out leaving Gabriel and Sam by the counter. Gabriel’s lips pressed against Sam’s, chapped, and tasting strongly of cinnamon. Uncertainly, Sam pressed back, only to have Gabriel nip at Sam’s bottom lip. His eyes flew open and he gasped. “Mmhmmm.” Gabriel smiled, and buried his hands in Sam’s hair, tugging softly to keep him in place.

“Merry Christmas Samsquatch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I want to know what my beta was suggesting I do with those mince pies… Still taking requests for future chapters by the way!


	19. It's lovely weather for some board games together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 19 (Basically Monopoly)
> 
> Dedicated to NotQuiteWatson and her ever critical view on Monopoly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Holmes and beta'd by NotQuiteWatson

Dean had just stuck the DVD of the fourth series of Doctor Who into the drive of his laptop when someone started hammering on the bedroom door. They were in Cas' room, tangled together, heads rested against the wall and legs tucked under the comforter. The two of them had fallen asleep together the evening before, and stayed curled up in Cas' single bed all night. It turned out that Dean was more likely to cuddle than be cuddled, and, even once they'd agreed to start watching series four, Cas remained at Dean's side, Dean's arms still around him. 

Sighing, Dean closed the lip of the laptop. "Come in." He yelled, pulling the blanket up a little further. 

Anna pushed the door open, Diri at her side. Diri was barely visible behind a towering pile of “...board games?” Dean asked incredulously. Anna nodded, eyes pleading.

“Luke has been raging about Gabriel’s prank- did you hear about the prank?”

“No.” Dean said as nonchalantly as he could manage. 

“Well he pretty much gift-wrapped everything Luke owns, and stuck a decorated Christmas on the ceiling, and I thought I could get them to maybe vent through board games.” Cas peered out from underneath the blanket, hair mussed and blinking away the sleep from his eyes. 

“I think it’s an excellent idea.”  
-

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, but slumped down on the floor next to Diri and Inias anyway. After a moment, he reached back and grabbed a cushion off the sofa, stuffing it between the sofa and his back. He eyed Gabriel with a murderous glint in his eyes. “I will end you.” he announced, and yanked the nearest board game off the pile. “And I will do it through…” He glared at the box distastefully, “Monotony.”

“Pretty sure it’s Monopoly,” Dean interrupted cheerfully. He and Cas had snagged the bean-bag, and were lying on it, side by side, and watching Gabriel and Luke with a half-wary air of someone expecting the worst.

“Monotony.” Luke insisted, and dumped the contents of the box on the floor. Gabriel shrugged and reached for the little dog playing piece, only to have it snatched from his grasp by Luke. Indignant, Gabriel’s mouth shot open, ready to protest.

“Gabriel.” Sam murmured warningly, tugging the Trickster back so he was practically sitting on Sam’s lap. “Be nice.”

Diri got to go first because he was the youngest. He landed on the super tax space, and looked like he was about to cry. Anna surreptitiously paid for him, and the game began. Inias and Luke collaborated to completely annihilate Gabriel, something that turned out to be harder than they thought it would. Sam stood in their way, fiercely defending Gabriel and buying up every property he could before selling them for virtually nothing to Gabriel. Dean kept a running commentary while Cas moved quietly around the board, buying up properties after solemn deliberation.

Anna and Michael were impartial to it all, mostly aiding Diri in not bankrupting himself. Diri’s latest fixation was trains, and he refused to rest until he had all of the stations. 

The game dragged on.

Dean lost everything to Luke’s hotel on Mayfair in the first hour, and sat back to continue his narration. Cas bankrupted himself soon after- to Gabriel this time-, and sat back with Dean. The two of them whispered quietly, heads together, exchanging the chastest of kisses. 

Due to his selling everything to Gabriel for virtually nothing, Sam surrendered in the second hour. Dean noticed he seemed content to mutter advice into Gabriel’s ears, and smiled to himself. Gabriel was irritating, mischievous, and downright smug… but he and Sam fit together somehow. 

By the third hour, Diri had fallen asleep in Michael’s lap, sleepily clutching his station cards. Anna lost out when she landed on three hotelled properties consecutively, and Michael stepped out when Inias climbed onto his lap beside Diri and promptly started snoring. 

Gabriel’s brow was furrowed in a frown, far away look in his eyes. Luke’s concentration was zeroed only on the board, not even seeming to register the occasional additions to his commentary that Dean tossed his way. Sam had an actual notebook- seriously his kid brother was such a nerd- and was keeping track of Gabriel’s investments.

“I think I understand why they call it Monotony.” Cas said after another half hour. 

“Want me to change that?” Dean smirked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Cas snorted and shoved at Dean’s shoulder. “Just end this.” 

Feigning indifference, Dean wandered over to the game. Michael had been set the task of managing bank, but he had gone. Carefully, Dean sat down by the bank and began to slip notes out of the folds, secreting them in his pockets. Luke and Gabriel were so focussed they didn’t even seem to notice. Sam did though- what are you doing? he mouthed. But Dean just put a finger to his lips and flashed his cheekiest grin, silently telling Sam that it was time for this to end.

Sam seemed to get it.

Luke crossed go. He reached for his 200 pounds- they had the english version of the game-, and found it wasn’t there. “There’s no money.” he said. Gabriel’s head snapped up.

“What?”

Dean stood up and clapped his hands together. (The money was under the bean bag, Cas would protect it) “How ‘bout ya just see who has the most money?” Luke looked like he might argue, but, on eyeing his own collection of cash, opted to get counting. 

“4,562.” Gabriel announced smugly. He leant back his head, resting it on Sam’s shoulder. 

Luke fumbled with the last of his notes, dropping several. He picked them up, mouthing numbers. “5,000. Dead on.” Luke grinned. “Guess I bested you then.”

“We good?” Gabriel asked, sticking out a hand. 

Luke considered it. “Mostly.” Dean shifted uneasily- if the look in Luke’s eyes was anything to go by, this was far from over. And there was no way Dean wanted to be there when the finale approached. Speaking of which, maybe he could get his baby free of the snow now...

“Luke,” Gabriel said matter-of-factly, “You are a great big bag of dicks.” 

Dean grabbed Cas by the hand and pulled him to his feet. “Help me dig out ‘pala?” Cas’ smile slipped from his face for the barest flash of a moment, but soon reappeared, albeit a little less sincere. 

“Of course, Dean.” Cas said, and followed him out of the room.

_He’s leaving me_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know how to play Monopoly- check out the wikihow page (http://www.wikihow.com/Play-Monopoly)
> 
> Although the name Monotony is well deserved… so beware.
> 
> Also I'm too nice to you. But eh, this is what happens when you don't pre-write the fic so you write it on the day and then it either ends up at 5 words of 5,000. Ehehe.
> 
> Still taking requests! Don't be afraid to drop me a line.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 20 (In which there is a little angst but it all ends in love you'll be fine)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Holmes

Michael insisted on accompanying Dean down the drive to the Impala. Armed with shovels, he, Dean, Cas, Luke, Gabriel, and Sam headed down to dig Dean’s baby out of the snow. The storm had stopped completely at last, and the world was white. A snow plough had made its way along the main road, carving out a path. It turned out that the Impala had got stuck partway up the Miltons' drive, meaning they had to traipse through several feet of piled snow to get to her. The Impala was no longer visible, entirely swamped, and it was only thanks to five minutes of poking carefully at the snow that they found her. 

Sam and Gabriel shoveled snow off the top of the Impala, both lost in their thoughts. Gradually, the car became visible. “Does this mean you’re leaving?” Gabriel asked, pausing his digging to look at Sam. Sam heard the unasked question crystal clear: What about us? He had been wondering that himself- what of Dean and Cas? What of him and Gabriel? 

A cry of triumph broke the awkward silence- Dean had uncovered the front of his beloved car. Fondly, Sam smiled. Then his expression turned serious. “I don’t know.” he said honestly. “Can I stay?” Do you want me to?

Gabriel didn’t respond, only stuck his shovel back into the snow. Saddened, Sam bit his lip to keep from voicing his thoughts. Could we be something? he wondered, leaning forward to dust the snow off the Impala’s windows. 

“Please.” Sam froze, sure he’d just imagined Gabriel speaking. He swallowed, trying to gulp down his nerves, and turned slowly around. 

“What?” His words came out several octaves higher than usual. He cleared his throat nervously and tried again. “What did you say?”

Gabriel met his gaze, a dozen flickers of emotion flashing over his face- stubbornness, fear, hope, sadness… love? “Stay. Please.”

The shrill ringing of his phone interrupted before Sam could answer. Struggling past pocket zippers and spare gloves, Sam yanked out his phone and flipped the cover.

“Sam?” Bobby spoke loudly, and Sam could hear the rumble of an engine and the murmur of female voices. 

“Bobby?” he asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gabriel’s shoulders slump, like he’d given up. Sam’s shovel hung loosely in his grip, and he dropped it in the snow, avoiding Gabriel’s stare.

“Stay put.” And there was no way Sam was going to admit to the swell of hope he felt at those words. He looked over at Dean, arm swung around Cas’ shoulders as he wiped the ice of the Impala’s windows. Cas looked sad, eyes fixed on Dean, mouth downturned… should they really be leaving this behind?

“What?” He asked, finally remembering that Bobby was on the other end of the phone. “Why?”

“Cause we’re coming to get ya idjits.” Bobby said gruffly. “Put me on the phone with whoever’s in charge of these Miltons.” 

Stunned, Sam clambered over the snow to where Michael and Luke stood, carefully excavating the Impala’s front wheels. “It’s for you.” He said numbly, and passed the phone over. Michael took it cautiously, frowning.

“Hello?” Anxious to hear, Sam stood by Michael’s side and listened to his half of the conversation. Michael didn’t say much- tended only to say yes or no, punctuated by the occasional frown or laugh. After a few minutes, Michael hung up and handed Sam’s phone back to him. 

“What did Bobby say?” Sam asked eagerly, very aware of how childlike he sounded waiting around for Michael to tell him what Bobby had said. 

Michael smiled. “They’re going to come over for Christmas dinner- and they’re bringing some pre-made food as well, so Anna doesn’t have to do all the work.” 

“Thank you!” Sam walked back over to Gabriel, grin plastered on his face. “We’re staying,” he announced, and bent down to kiss Gabriel smack on the lips. For a second, Gabriel didn’t return it, but then his hands were on either side of Sam’s face and Gabriel was kissing him back passionately.

“Get a room.” Luke called, reaching over with his shovel to poke Sam on the shoulder. Sam broke away, smirking. He grabbed Gabriel’s hand, leaned against the Impala and rapped on the roof to get his brother’s attention. “Hey Dean!” he called. 

“What?” Dean asked, looking up from the soulful-staring thing he and Cas had going on.

“We’re staying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be leaving on Monday to stay with relatives over Christmas, so NotQuiteWatson will (hopefully) be posting the updates I've got written every day. Merry Christmas (or whichever holiday you celebrate)- have a great time!


	21. Never have I ever felt this way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 21 (Thank Luci for underrated sleepover games)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Holmes

“We made eggnog!” Inias and Diri swarmed over to the frozen quintet when they came back inside. Diri had a swirl of cream on his nose and cinnamon dust on his hands, but he was grinning.

“You hafta have some!” he insisted, taking Gabriel by the hand and leading him, as well as a bemused Sam, into the kitchen. The rest of them followed Inias, shedding coats, scarves, and gloves as they went. The kitchen was wonderfully warm, reminding Dean of their first entrance into the Miltons’ house. 

Cas had, since Sam had announced they were staying, retained a strong grip on Dean’s hand. Even as they sipped at their eggnog- actually quite good stuff-, he held on tightly, as if he were afraid that Dean would disappear. 

Luke had perched on the back of the sofa, surveying the gathering in the kitchen. Lifting the mug to his lips, he drained the contents and, smacking his lips, set it down. “How about a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’?” he suggested, slipping off the couch. 

“I think I’ll abstain from this one,” Michael said dryly, and beckoned to Diri and Inias, “and take these two upstairs.” 

Gabriel brought out six shot glasses and the eggnogg. “I will not be drunk on Christmas morning,” he announced, and set the lot down on the floor of the living room, “so you can suck it up and make the most of the bacardi in this.” 

Dean snorted, but accepted his shot glass anyway, watching the creamy liquid pour into it. He and Cas managed to hog the bean-bag again, material crinkling with every subtle move they made. Not that Cas was moving much. Cas, as if he’d never drunk alcohol, was solemnly contemplating his eggnog. “Who’s going to start?” Dean asked, leaning back. 

“I will.” Anna slid off the armchair she’d been occupied and onto the floor beside Gabriel and Sam, who were sitting side by side on a small mountain of cushions. “Never have I ever tried to use ‘the force’ on anyone.”

Dean snorted, remembering a Christmas two decades ago, when he’d finally got Sam to watch Star Wars and spent the rest of the day fending off his attempts to use the force. It had been adorable to watch him try and open doors, pour water, or get the remote using ‘the force’. Eventually- without telling Sam, of course- Dean had rigged up some a pulley system with fishing spool and anything else he could find so that Sam could ‘use’ the force properly. 

“Luke, I am your father,” Bobby had boomed when he’d found the boys glued to the set again, and Dean hadn’t missed the look of absolute hope on Sam’s face at Bobby’s words. Bobby had been like a father to them, but Sam… Sam wanted real father.

“Dean?” Jolted back to the present, Dean realised Sam was giving him another one of his patented bitchfaces- number seven, a.k.a the _Don’t lie to me (Dean)_ , if Dean wasn’t much mistaken. Aside from Cas, Anna, and himself, all the shot glasses had been emptied.

“Oh yeah.” Dean laughed, and drained the eggnog from the glass. He turned to Cas, tone disbelieving. “You’ve _never_ tried to use the force?”

“It’s not real,” Cas said, confused, “why would I attempt to use it?” Rolling his eyes, Dean poked Cas’ side.

“You didn’t have a childhood.”

“I did, Dean.” Cas persisted. “It’s the years between birth and adolescence and I couldn’t be here today without having-” Dean stopped him my pressing their lips together. Careful not to spill Cas’ eggnog, Dean pulled back a little, so their noses were just grazing.

“I’m teasing.”

“Before this gets any more domestic,” Luke cut in, “I think I’ll take my turn.” Hastily everyone refilled their shot glasses and waited. “Never have I ever been kissed under the mistletoe.” 

There was a chorus of awws, and Sam and Gabriel knocked back their eggnog simultaneously. Dean raised his eyebrows, wondering if that meant those two had- yeah, probably they had. Anna was next to drink up. He himself had never actually got someone to kiss him under the mistletoe- never seemed quite right if he’d been sticking to the whole ‘love them and leave them’ thing he’d had going on. Dean noticed Cas hadn’t drunk from his glass either. 

“Hey Cas.”

“Yes Dean?” Dean grabbed Cas by the hand and pulled him to his feet. 

“Lets get ourselves the right to drink to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is the last day I'm accepting submissions and ideas… If you have a request, be it for a ship, a line/quote or a moment, let me know.


	22. Have a Holly, Jolly, Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 22 (In which… well in which stuff happens)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Holmes and beta'd by the incredibly talented NotQuiteWatson (who, by the way, will be posting the last few chapters (23-25) for me while I'm away, so that this goddess)

“Is anyone in this family not gay?” Gabriel complained. He swirled the eggnog residue round his glass and contemplated the rest of his family. Sam tightened his grip on Gabriel’s free hand, a slight squeeze to remind him that he was there.

“Michael’s not.” offered Luke, idly fiddling with the frayed edge of a cushion cover, “He’s got a girlfriend, remember?” Gabriel sat bolt upright, and Sam felt his jaw drop. 

“Wait.” Anna turned to Luke. “You’re gay?”

Luke smirked and held up his hands. “Good morning Vietnam,” he muttered, and set down the cushion. “Guilty as charged.” For a moment the Miltons and Sam sat in silence, then a thought seemed to occur to Luke, and he twisted to face Anna. “So you are too?” Anna nodded the affirmative, and Sam snorted.

“What?” Anna asked defensively, eyes flashing. 

Instantly Sam was apologetic. “No! I didn’t mean it like that.” Anna’s posture softened. She looked less likely to punch him now, Sam thought, and continued- though more tentatively. “I just mean, look at us. Dean’s bi, I’m bi, you’re a lesbian, Luke and Gabriel are gay…” 

“Pan.” Gabriel interrupted. He tugged on Sam’s hair until Sam met his gaze. “Pansexual.” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Potentially attracted to everything that moves,” Gabriel joked.

“Explains a lot.” Luke muttered, and reached for the eggnog.

Dean and Cas slipped back onto their beanbag, cheeks red and looking thoroughly-kissed. Both of them downed their shots and sat back. “Who’s turn is it?” Cas asked, taking the eggnog from Luke and refilling both their glasses.

“Your go, Cassie.” Gabriel grinned and raised his glass, “come up with something good.”

Cas looked uncertain. He set down his shot glass and furrowed his brow, an expression of immense concentration coming over his face. Remembering the fiery Milton temper, Sam kept his mouth shot, focusing instead on the feel of Gabriel’s head on his shoulder and the warmth of their entwined fingers. Dean shuffled forward, trailing his hand down so it rested at Cas’ waist rather than his shoulder, and whispered into his ear. Cas blushed, and Sam wondered what Dean had said. It could have been anywhere in the realm of dirty or the world of sweet but, knowing his brother, it was probably the former.

“Never have I ever dyed my hair pink.” Cas gazed expectantly around the circle, shot glass balanced on his knee. Gabriel was the only one to knock back the eggnog in his glass. Sam huffed out a laugh. 

“Really?” Gabriel nodded and ran a hand through his hair, preening. 

“Made an entrance to college.” his smile was wicked, and Sam drew his hand out of Gabriel’s. Imagining the pink colour on the brown of Gabriel’s hair was interesting. 

“No one else?” he asked. Everyone shook their heads.

“Never have I ever fallen in love with someone under a week after I met them.” Anna butted in. She held up the eggnog bottle, and offered it round. Sam froze, unsure if this was a round to lie on. But… 

Then Gabriel took the proffered bottle and poured and downed a shot. Sam, relieved, took the bottle and did the same. Cas and Dean followed suit, toasting each other. Beaming like an idiot, Sam interlinked his hand with Gabriel’s again. He hid his face in Gabriel’s neck, pressing butterfly kisses to the skin there. Gabriel squirmed around, laughing, and threw his arms- shot glass thankfully on the floor- around Sam. “Come on Samsquatch,” Gabriel’s muffled voice reached his ears, tinged with the telltale tone of a secreted smile. “I believe you promised me a game of Twister.”


	23. Hang up your stocking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 23 (In which there are stockings and Luke inspires terror)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Holmes and beta'd and Brit-picked by the irreplaceable NotQuiteWatson
> 
> Enjoy!

Sam and Gabriel were about to leave when Diri and Inias, closely followed by Michael, burst into the living room. “Stockings!” Diri yelled, hurling himself into Anna’s lap. He bounced up and down, flailing his arms everywhere. “Stockings! Stockin’s.” Chuckling, Anna picked him up and set him down once she’d changed her position so she was sitting cross-legged. Inias, despite the cardboard box Michael had under one arm, had somehow managed to clamber up so he was perched on Michael’s shoulders. 

"Pity about Twister," Dean was sure he heard Gabriel whisper, "In my version, clothes are optional." Sam turned beet-red at the comment, and Gabriel laughed wickedly. 

Shaking his head, Dean got up and took the box from Michael. Cas moved the eggnog bottle, now mostly empty, from the floor and onto the coffee table so Dean could set the box down in the middle of their little circle. The flaps were open, revealing a mass of red material and white fluff, as well as the occasional bauble. Gingerly, Dean stuck his hand into the heap and pulled; he tugged out a red and white striped stocking that seemed to go on forever. When it finally came free, he noticed writing- gold stitching- down the side. It read “Samandiriel”. 

“Diri,” he grunted and, having caught the kid’s attention, tossed it over to him. Diri instantly wrapped it round his neck like a scarf, got up off Anna’s lap, and stuck his own hands into the box. 

Michael rummaged around in the box, careful not to get in the way of either Diri or Inias, and brought out two bog-standard red stockings. They were trimmed with white fluff and one bore the image of Santa, while the other had a red-nosed reindeer on it. He handed one to Sam and one to Dean, who shot him a questioning look. “You’re honorary Miltons.” Michael explained, then carried on passing out stockings. 

A warm feeling blossomed inside Dean, and his fingers tightened in the felten material of the stocking. Cas seemed to sense it, and he put his hand on top of Dean’s. In the most cliched way possible- ‘cause why not, it was that kind of fairytale of a holiday- it made Dean feel like he could breathe in past the cold air. 

“Luke, can you help Inias put the fire on?” The sun was quickly leaving the sky outside, and the darkness made it hard to see the names on the stockings. Michael began lighting candles while Luke lugged firewood into the fireplace and Inias sprinkled and built up kindling. The fire caught quickly, and the room was lit by the red-golden glow of its light. 

“Come on Dean,” Cas said quietly, getting to his feet, “hang up your stocking.” 

There were eight pegs on the fireplace, space out beneath wooden blocks that were surely meant to spell out Santa. Instead, no doubt at Luke’s doing, they spelled out Satan, while the traditional blocks for ‘Merry Christmas’ said ‘Merr Christmashy’. Dean snorted, but hung his stocking up between Cas’ and Sam’s anyway. 

Luke’s stocking actually had a little devil sloppily stitched onto it, and Michael’s- fittingly enough- had an angel. Inias’ had a snowman, Anna’s had a Christmas tree, Gabriel’s had an elf, and Cas’ had a bright star. Dean noticed that Diri couldn’t reach his peg, so Dean bent down and lifted him up just high enough for him to reach the centre peg. “Santa’s comin’ tomorrow,” Diri said importantly, “we all gotta be real good.”

“Or what?” Dean asked, setting Diri down. Their father had told them the monster in the closet would get them so they’d be good. Thanks to that bout of stellar parenting, Sam had been terrified and slept in Dean’s bed for weeks.

“Or Luke’ll take all my’ presents.” Diri confessed anxiously, clinging onto Dean’s hand. 

Dean fought back a smile at Diri's expression, and was about to soothe him when his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket with an apologetic look in Diri’s direction, and read the text. It was from Bobby- Staying in a motel overnight. Be there tomorrow morning. 

"Have you been good?" He asked Diri. He and Cas- they seemed to be attached at the hip now; they were one entity: Deanandcas- perched on the brick edge of the fireplace so they were at eye level with Diri.

Diri looked embarrassed and twisted his hands in his shirt. "Mosta the time," he admitted, "but I didn't put 'way my stuff when I was done with it last' week."

"It's alright," Cas told him, somehow keeping a straight face, "we'll keep you safe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In response to my last chapter, I'd say that, were they all a little older, and had I considered the effects on the story, I'd have liked to have introduced my Headcanons of trans!Inias and ace!Luke... But maybe next time.


	24. Dreaming of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 24 (In which Bobby, Ellen, and Jo make an appearance and there is copious fluff)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Holmes and beta'd and Brit-picked by the infallible and fabulous NotQuiteWatson

The doorbell rang promptly at eleven. Sam had made his way downstairs at seven, eaten breakfast, chatted with Michael, and gone back up to snuggle with Gabriel by the time Bobby, Ellen, and Jo arrived. Gabriel, bleary eyed and blundering around for coffee at ten, was most definitely not a morning person. He did, however, whip up a delicious batch of peanut-butter and banana pancakes for anyone who wanted breakfast, resulting in an almost hobbit-like second breakfast at half past ten. 

Michael answered the door, plate in hand, and greeted the Singers warmly. “I’m Michael Milton- we spoke on the phone,” he said, grasping each of their hands in turn, “and you must be the Singers. Merry Christmas.”

At the sound of the door, Sam all but ran through to throw his arms around each of his family in turn. “I swear you’ve grown,” Jo complained, standing on her tiptoes to hug him, “at least tell me you saved some of those delicious smelling pancakes.” Laughing, Sam guided them through to the kitchen.

“Bobby, Ellen, Jo… meet the Miltons.” Gabriel waved, spatula still in hand, sending drops of pancake batter flying everywhere. Diri clambered up onto the counter beside Gabriel to wave enthusiastically at the newcomers, while Inias and Luke- putting up the lights again- simply nodded.

Dean slipped into the room, hand in hand with Cas, and stopped mid stride when he spotted the Singers. Sam could tell from the way Dean’s fingers loosened around Cas’ that he still wasn’t comfortable expressing his sexuality around his family. John hadn’t looked kindly on anything outside what he saw as ordinary, and it meant Dean was a lot more reserved with guys than with girls. Before Dean could back out, Sam called him over. “Hey Dean!” Visibly, Dean took a breath. But he didn’t let go of Cas’ hand, and Sam smiled. 

“Dean!” Jo spun round to crush Dean in one of her customary hugs, only to freeze when she saw who he was holding hands with. “Oh. _Oh._ ” Her smile, already present on her face, turned into a full blown grin. “You caught yourself a nice one, Winchester.” Some of the tension leaked out of Dean’s posture, and he pulled Cas forward.

“This is Cas.” he said, voice a pitch higher than usual. He coughed. “We’re, uh.” he shot a look at Cas, his call for help clear in his eyes even from where Sam stood, “We’re-”

“We’re together.” Cas said, lips twitching uncertainly into a smile as he met the eyes of Bobby, Ellen, and Jo in turn. 

“And Samsquatch and I are too.” Gabriel interrupted between licks of the batter spoon. Diri and Inias were busy scraping out the bowl, but even they looked to Gabriel at his outburst. Sam’s smile faltered a little, but, with a look at the joy on Bobby’s face alone, his confidence surged. 

“This is Gabriel.” he explained.

“I leave you idjits alone for a few days…” Bobby muttered, shaking his head. “Nice to meet you all.”

Ellen elbowed him, but her smirk gave away her opinion. “Why don’t you boys introduce us to everyone properly, huh?” 

“Lucifer.” Luke called, pointing to himself. If he expected fear or surprise, he didn’t get much beyond a raised eyebrow and an impressed nod from Jo. 

“Luke.” Sam chuckled, and waved up to him, “Shut up.”

“He said ‘Shut up’ to me!” Luke grinned, pantomiming dying. Everyone laughed. 

“That’s Anna,” Sam continued, not missing the appreciative flick of Jo’s eyes up and down Anna’s body. “One and only female Milton child.”

Dean continued to introduce the Miltons, but Jo clearly wasn’t listening any more. Still keeping an eye on Jo, Sam wandered over to stand with Gabriel. “Do I get extra pancakes?” he murmured, pretending to steal the last plate of them. Gabriel swatted his hand and tilted his head back a little to kiss Sam on the cheek. 

“No.” Gabriel teased. “These are mine.”

“And mine.” Ellen interjected hopefully, an empty plate in her hands. With a sigh, Gabriel relented. 

“Singers, Winchesters… What did I get myself into?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So folks, That's nearly the end. I'll be posting the last chapter tomorrow in between festivities... 
> 
> Merry Christmas to you all!


	25. Next Christmas We All Can Be Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 25 (In which presents are exchanged and this year's Yuletide celebrations are left on a happy note)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Holme and beta'd and brit-picked by the best beta in the business: NotQuiteWatson

Christmas morning dawned with a fresh blanket of snow and the smell of turkey cooking. It also dawned to the excited bouncing forms of Inias and Diri, who apparently weren’t allowed to open their stockings until everyone- and that included Dean and Cas, who were very comfortable snuggling on Cas’ bed, thank you very much- was downstairs. Sleepily, the two of them stumbled down into the kitchen, Cas half-heartedly pulling on clothes, and Dean only just remembering to grab their presents for the Miltons and for Bobby, Ellen, and Jo as they exited the room. 

“Morning sleepy-heads.” Jo sing-songed from her seat on the couch. Dean didn’t miss how close she and Anna were sitting, but chose to ignore it in favour of grabbing a cup of coffee. 

When he emerged from the depths of his second mug, Dean felt human enough to go and watch Inias and Diri excitedly unpack their stockings. Michael passed him his when he sat down, and he was pleasantly surprised to find he’d been favoured with some tangerines, chocolate, and a slowly warming beer. He nodded his thanks and got out all his presents to give.

Diri, and Inias immediately scoffed half of the sweets he handed them, and even Gabriel stuck a lollipop right into his mouth. When he turned to pass the sketchbook to Anna, Dean caught a glimpse of Sam handing Gabriel something- a book? That made Gabriel yank Sam into a kiss-, but he ignored it in favour of handing Luke a set of pencils he’d found in ‘pala’s trunk. 

Once Michael was wearing his new Santa hat, and Bobby and Ellen were chuckling over the recipe book and mechanical car model he’d given them, Dean turned nervously to Cas. He’d done his best with the scarf, but it was full of holes even Anna hadn’t been able to help him fix, and the wrapping paper just hadn’t wanted to cooperate. "Cas?" He mumbled, trying not to completely interrupt Cas' conversation with Ellen. He did anyway. Dean slipped the package into Cas' lap without meeting his eyes. "Merry Christmas, Cas."

Dean flicked his gaze up to Cas' face, intending only to see whether or not he'd liked the gift, but the pure happiness on Cas' face made him unable to look away. Within seconds, the lumpy blue scarf was wrapped around Cas' neck like it had never left. "Thank you Dean." The material was soft, and Dean felt it against his cheek when Cas leaned in and first hugged him, and then drew back to gently press their lips together, smiling softly all the while. "I love it very much."

Dean felt his cheeks heat up a little, and looked away from the gazes of their little gathering. A moment later, Cas slid something into his lap. It was wonkily wrapped, with tape over every part possible and a bow that was rapidly coming undone stuck to the top. It was endearing, and uniquely Cas. Although he wasn’t much of one for patience, he opened the gift carefully, and placed the wrapping paper in the rapidly increasing pile in the centre of the living room.

It was an angel. 

The sort that could be hung from a beam, from a tree… or from the centre mirror of a car. Dean lifted the angel closer, so he could peer at it. Black wings, a suit, a blue tie, and a trenchcoat- nothing like what angels were supposed to look like. Dean’s gaze flickered to Cas. Christmas day had Cas in a suit with a blue tie, and there was even a trenchcoat on the sofa behind him. He looked back to the angel- it even had the bright blue eyes. 

“Thanks Cas.” He said gruffly, and set the angel- Castiel- down on the sofa beside him. Cas looked apprehensive, like he wasn’t sure Dean had liked it.

“Christmas is on a Thursday this year,” Cas explained, hands twisting in the material of his trenchcoat, now on his lap, “And since my namesake Castiel- actually Cassiel, but it’s less of a mouthful as Castiel- is the Angel of Thursday, and you’re leavin-” Grinning, Dean stopped Cas’ words by kissing him, all chapped lips, coffee breath, and that underlying cinnamon taste that belonged to him. 

Then a cacophony of beeping began, and Dean drew back, confused. Diri had his hands over his ears, and Anna, Ellen, Jo, and Michael all ran out of the kitchen, apologising. “We need extra hands!” Michael called, and headed right back in. Anna stayed a second or two longer, only time enough to grab her apron. Luke was the first to dive into the kitchen, yelling something about the cranberry sauce; he was soon followed my Gabriel and Sam, and then, reluctantly, Cas and Dean.  
-

Somehow they got all twelve of them round the Miltons’ dining table that, while being quite large already, was definitely not meant for a dozen people. Michael, Bobby, and Anna served everyone and, once they all had enough turkey and stuffing and brussel sprouts to go round, they raised their glasses and toasted to Christmas. 

They all tucked in. Dean moaned at the pure perfection of the turkey, and spoke through a mouthful. “Anna, you gotta teach this to’ Ellen,” he waved his fork enthusiastically, “she al’ays burns i’.” Ellen whacked him upside the head, reaching past Michael to do so.

“You show me some respect, boy,” she warned, then returned to her own helpings. Dean’s comment didn’t seem to have reached Anna. She and Jo sat next to each other, heads together, talking in hushed voices, sharing food. Miltons and Singers, Miltons and Winchesters- they went together like vanilla ice-cream and cherry pie. With his free hand, Dean reached under the table and took Cas’ hand in his own. Across the table, he saw Sam do the same with Gabriel, dropping a kiss on his forehead as he did so.

Abruptly, Gabriel spat out a carrot. Dean flinched back, watching fury grace Gabriel’s face. “Luke,” he snarled, “I thought we were even.”

“Nope,” Luke said cheerfully, tucking into his own carrots, “the chili in your carrots says otherwise.” 

For a minute the table held their breath, waiting to see if Gabriel would leap at Luke’s throat, but he just swallowed and laughed. “Fair enough,” Gabriel said, and took a swig of his water, fanning at his face once he’d put the glass down, “fair enough.” Sam still looked a little worried, but he let Gabriel be.

“Where do you live then?” Michael questioned Bobby, fork frozen halfway to his mouth. 

“Out in Sioux Falls,” Bobby told him, “and these idjit boys are down in Lebanon, Kansas.” 

“Looks like we’re about in the middle,” Luke observed, passing a second helping of carrots to Diri, “Pity to let that go to waste…” Michael nodded, and hope flared up inside Dean. Maybe he wouldn’t have to say goodbye to Cas. Cas squeezed his hand under the table, and Dean knew he was grinning, but he couldn’t- didn’t want to- stop.

Bobby cleared his throat and lifted his glass. “To new relationships formed,” Bobby said, winking at Sam and Dean, “to friends to be made,” Sam and Dean smiled warmly at the Miltons, “and to family,” everyone lifted their glasses, and Bobby raised his voice, “to family,” he repeated, “that don’t end with blood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the end of it. Thank you all for sticking with me through my first Advent fic, my first publish-a-day... Thanks for all the lovely comments, and for the kudos that really kept the story moving. 
> 
> I hope you all have brilliant Christmases! Enjoy your day :)
> 
> And you never know, maybe while NotQuiteWatson works on her Johnlock Advents fic for next year... Maybe I can work on something too ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy December everyone.


End file.
